what stays and what fades away
by lloydskywalkers
Summary: With the Never Realm freed and his family returned, Zane figures things should go right back to normal as they always do. But memory can be a terrible curse when facing the consequences, and the effects of the Ice Emperor go far deeper than the frostbite half of them managed to pick up. (S11 finale spoilers!)


**Here I am with a season finale aftermath fic once again! If you've seen it you'll know that it...kind of lacks in the closure department, a little bit. Or at least _I_ thought it did, so you guys get 6K words of me being emotional over Zane for once XD**

**(And Lloyd and Kai, my kids, I'm so sorry, you'll never escape the angst)**

**Anyways, big warning for the Ice Chapter finale spoilers! (And mild blood and injuries, these kids were wandering around in a blizzard with NO JACKETS, they pay the price). **

* * *

His hands will not stop shaking.

It's an odd thing, a subtle, rattling kind of tremor that starts in his fingers and spreads up his arms, until he's forced to cross his arms tightly for fear of it spreading further. It lives there, trembling in his hands the entire trek back across the snowy wilderness, through every one of his family's stories, and only worsens as they reach the village.

Zane doesn't understand it. He's not supposed to shake like this.

But he doesn't understand how the villagers can look on him in kindness, either, so his vision might simply still be frosted over.

His hands keep shaking, all throughout the cheers and reunions and goodbyes. Zane watches as the villagers embrace his family, hoping desperately they won't pull him into the mix. He watches the excited children that swarm around Kai's legs, watches as his brother pushes back the heavy exhaustion that lurks behind his eyes to smile, lighting bright little flames from his fingertips for them. There's a relief behind his eyes that Zane spots, and he remembers, with a flash, that last he'd seen Kai, his powers had been lost.

It's only been a matter of days, or weeks at most, for his family since then. Their eyes are not dulled in age, as so many of this realm's inhabitant's are.

And yet it feels so very, very long ago for him.

His family finally pulls him closer, forcing him into the mix, and Zane's heart stutters in fear. But the old woman who faces him has nothing but kindness in her face, and care in her touch. Her eyes hold a kind of gentleness that reminds him keenly of his father, and for a moment, Zane wants to cry.

Then the woman speaks, and she _thanks_ him.

She thanks him for freeing them, for overthrowing Vex, for ending their eternal winter. Her words spread through the crowd of villagers and they echo her with words like _hero_ and _savior_.

For a moment, Zane can't breathe. Had he eaten anything in the past decade, he might throw it up.

He might be sick, anyways. The fiery ache in his gut suggests he is.

* * *

Zane's hands refuse to stop shaking even as the bright whites and cold blues of the Never Realm fade away to the vivid colors of their own realm, even as the frost and ice that's lived perpetually in their clothes and hair finally starts to melt, condensing in the sun and dripping down their foreheads and noses, soaking their clothes.

Jay snickers as Kai's hair droops under the weight of the moisture, and Cole rings his shirt out with a wry expression as Lloyd wrinkles his nose, swiping droplets from his eyes before Nya finally sweeps the water from their skin effortlessly, her smile bright as the water bends easily under her power.

Zane stands still, letting the droplets bead at the end of his fingers before falling to the ground. He moves his hand slightly, watching the light shift, and for a moment, the droplets are colored dark red.

Then Nya gently touches his hand, the water evaporating from his skin, and she smiles at him.

"Don't want you rusting."

Zane feels as if he already has. He musters a smile back for her, but he's careful to keep his distance. He's careful not to touch.

He's been wary of that — he's allowed himself that first hug, that first tight embrace from Lloyd, his little brother's shoulders trembling as he clung to him, the rest of his family piling on soon after. He allowed himself that, and tells himself it was already more than he deserved.

He returns Sensei Wu's embrace when he throws himself at him, because Zane remembers family and a comforting hand on his shoulder. He presses his face against Pixal's when she clambers onto him, because he's missed her like a wound and her laugh is brighter than any sun.

But then the others follow through the portal, their faces raw and scabbed from cold, bruised and tired and their eyes suddenly older than Zane's memories show him, and he draws back.

His hands are shaking again. An error.

He does not trust them to touch.

"It might just be the time," Jay offers later, as they piece themselves together once again, his eyebrows furrowed as he tries to inspect Zane's hand. Zane yanks it from his reach before he can, fear spiking like ice in his throat. His voice won't work to excuse the error, but Jay's eyes soften anyways, and he draws back. Understanding.

As if any of them _understand _what he's done.

"Maybe he's cold," Lloyd suggests. Jay laughs at that, and even Sensei cracks a smile.

Zane does not.

Lloyd doesn't, either.

* * *

His vision is clearer than it's been in years, and yet Zane finds the world moves in a hazy fog around him.

Pixal is a steady guide beside him, her eyes sharp in concern as Sensei ushers them back into the monastery — _home_, and if it wasn't for his memories telling him it's been years, Zane could've sworn it'd been yesterday he'd woken up here, the nightmare fading from his eyes in the light of his family.

Oh, how he wishes.

He doesn't take Pixal's hand, but he lets her lean close, her shoulder knocking against his in a supportive comfort as they crash around the room they use for injuries, for emergencies and patch-ups and after-mission recovery. Zane's vision remains hazy until his family is sitting down around him, and then it clears into sharp, painful clarity.

They're exhausted, all of them — tired-eyed, thinner and paler than they were. They're littered in scrapes and bruises and the now-familiar blistered skin of frostbite. Cole's arms are a spectacular horror in and of themselves, protected only by the sheer force of his power, and Sensei spends ages fretting over him.

"I'm fine, Sensei, I'm — ow, _ow_—"

Given that Cole's arms are as red as Kai's uniform and the slightest movement has him wincing, he is wildly unsuccessful at convincing anyone of this, and ends up confined to a bed right next to Lloyd.

The others aren't much better off. Nya's lips are so chapped they're still bleeding, her hands raw and scraped where she worries them, constantly sniffing from her running nose. Jay refuses to sit still, bouncing from foot to foot as if to banish the remaining cold, the skin where his freckles fleck bright red and ugly from blistering. And Kai— Kai is frost-bitten and bruised and his _hands_ —

Zane didn't know Kai could burn, but he has. Kai's hands — worn, familiar hands, hands that _protect_ — are burned and blistered, forever scarred by the lengths he went.

"You pushed it too far," Sensei Wu tells him gravely, Kai wincing as he spreads salve on his hands. "Your power is great, but your body has limits."

Kai's eyes hold no regret. "I had to," is all he says. He had to take that risk.

A risk to stop _Zane_.

Zane's chest is in knots, his gut writhing like Aspheera's snakes have set fire to it. His hands clench and unclench in his lap, the tremors growing worse.

He does not want to watch Lloyd. He does not want to recall the memories he has of Lloyd's heartbroken eyes, of the crack of breath as ice slammed against his little brother's chest. But he forces himself to.

He forces himself to, because he realizes, rather quickly, that he's overlooked something. An error, one Zane does not realize until later. One he does not realize until Kai runs a shaking hand over the ice-burned skin of Lloyd's arms and neck, until Lloyd doubles over with his eyes screwed up in pain against the bright lights above them. Nya's already taken care of the gash at the corner of his head, just past the ends of his hair, an ugly, streaking thing that speaks of cruelty and carelessness.

Kai's eyes burn hot. "Who—"

"Vex."

Lloyd's answer is firm and unshaken, steady in a way Lloyd never is when he lies.

"Vex," he repeats, even as the bruise on his shoulder that looks like the edge of a step turns purple. Even as the reddened mark of blistered cold on his wrist takes the shape of a handprint. "Vex did this."

There is an error in Lloyd's words, and an error Zane has overlooked.

Lloyd is the only one who set foot in the frozen throne room.

Lloyd is the only one who saw him.

* * *

"It's okay, Zane," Cole tells him softly, after Zane has violently jerked away from his touch. "You didn't mean to. It's alright, we get it."

Zane shakes his head, unable to look at him. They do not understand. They cannot.

They would not allow Zane to remain among them, if they did.

* * *

_"__Can you make it snow?"_

_Zane is confused at the voice, at first. He then realizes that the source is below his eye-level, only coming up to his waist and tugging at the edge of his gi. The newest addition to their family, the newest color to join their bright array. _

_Lloyd stares up at him, red eyes inquisitive under his unruly mop of hair._

_"__I am…sorry?" Zane asks, as his question registers. _

_Lloyd rolls his eyes. "Can you make it snow. Like, for snowmen, and sledding, and stuff. Y'know, snow."_

_"__Oh." Zane blinks. He knows snow. The snow of Birchwood, the snow he found his powers in. The snow of his home, where his father had lived, once. _

_Kai would tell him his feelings are mixed, about snow. _

_"__I…suppose I can," he says, feeling the pulse of the golden weapons in his blood, tied to his power. He feels the same pulse echo through him as Lloyd grabs his hands, his eyes excited._

_"__Show me," he demands._

_Zane blinks, but he finally smiles, relenting. He bends his knees until he's at Lloyd's level, carefully cupping his hands, holding them out so Lloyd can see. With a gentle tug, he brings the softest of flurries to life in his hands, crystallized snowflakes swirling in a bright ball of light above his fingertips. _

_Lloyd stares at the glowing white orb in awe, the light of it reflected in the bright shine of his eyes._

_"__It's beautiful," Lloyd says, his voice hushed._

_Zane does not think he has ever even heard him use the word 'beautiful', but the soft way he says it sounds more natural than any of the evil cackles Lloyd has forced from his lips. _

_"__I am glad you think so," Zane says, then he blows the snowflakes in his face, gentle flurries exploding out at him. Lloyd giggles in delight, blinking snow from his lashes as he tries in vain to catch them on his tongue. Zane smiles, a bubble of laughter welling up in his chest as Lloyd looks at him in awe, his own smile bright._

* * *

_Lloyd stares at him, eyes misted in pain and welling tears, flinching back from the ice freezing bitterly against his skin._

_"__Zane, _**_please_**_."_

* * *

Perhaps memory loss was the easier route.

* * *

While he feels like he's spent years asleep, he tries for it again, because that's what everyone else immediately does. He turns the world off and flees for the darkness, as if that will hold some form of sanctuary for him. But he sees the terrified faces of the Formlings when he closes his eyes, hears screaming and the sickly sweet whispering of Vex's words in his ears when he plasters his hands over them, and sleep is lost for him.

Zane wakes up screaming once, twice, then crying a third, and Kai or Cole are there with hushed words of comfort that he can't hear, until Lloyd wakes up crying as well.

His is a different kind though, double-visioned tears that to turn to doubled-over sick in the bathroom, his eyes dizzy and unfocused, and Kai's hand comes away from the back of his head a dark red.

His cry of panic wakes Jay and Cole as well, Nya soon to follow, all of them cramming around in the bathroom as Kai panics and Lloyd's words slur and Zane stands frozen.

Kai tugs at Lloyd to drag him to Sensei, and the thin fabric of Lloyd's pajama shirt slips over his shoulder. Zane recoils violently. Beneath his clothes, Lloyd's skin is a hideous collage of reds and blues, purple and blackening blood vessels beneath the raw, ice-burned skin.

_Vex did this_, echoes in his ears, and Zane swallows back nausea.

Vex did not have hands that freeze. Vex could not leave cruel patterns of frostbite on other's skin. Vex did not wield elemental power, and Vex could not command dragons that tear up the mech his brother was in.

Zane falters, his knees buckling. The others will look after Lloyd. The others will protect him.

Zane has proven himself quite capable of doing the opposite.

So he flees, runs from the light and the warmth of his family, and hides in the dark like a _coward_.

* * *

"He's going to be alright, you know."

Pixal's voice is gentle and reassuring as she pulls herself onto the monastery roof, sitting quietly beside him. Zane looks away, staring up at the brightness of the stars above until his eyes water.

"Sensei said it's just the concussion, but it should heal," Pixal continues.

Zane bites his lip. Lloyd is tough — if he didn't know that before, he'd know it now, he thinks bitterly.

But Zane's mind is an analytical one, and that is a curse right now. Because head injuries — head injuries could mean brain damage, and brain damage could mean memory loss, and memory loss could mean your brother turns against you and freezes half a realm—

No, the entire realm, hadn't he.

"Lloyd said he wants to see you."

Zane makes a sound in the back of his throat, bitter and hollow. Pixal's eyes turn sad, and Zane feels a pang in his chest.

"He really does, you know," she says, quietly. "We all do."

Zane tilts his head at her. "You do see me," he says. "I'm here right now, aren't I?"

Pixal meets his gaze head-on, her green eyes glimmering in the dim light. "Are you?"

Zane is forced to look away. His eyes find his hands instead, where they're laced tightly together in his lap. The tremors have lessened from earlier, but they're still there. Still a reminder, of what he's done with these hands.

"You're hiding," Pixal says. Her words are not an accusation, but they feel like one nonetheless. "From what?"

Zane blinks, long and hard. "Don't you know?" he finally exhales, the words heavy. "You heard what I did."

Pixal stiffens. "Zane," she says, pained. "Do you remember after we met, when I attacked you? When Cryptor and the Overlord had me under their control? You did not blame me for that."

Zane shakes his head. "This is different." His hands are rattling now. "You did not — you didn't see, Pixal. You didn't see what I did."

Pixal is quiet for a moment, then she speaks. "But they did."

Zane buries his face in his hands. "I don't understand," he whispers. "They don't understand."

Pixal huffs a breath out, the sound pained. "I wish I knew how to help you," she says, her voice miserable.

It tugs on something in Zane's chest, and he finds himself leaning against her shoulder, taking what comfort he dares let himself have from her.

"You do help," he tells her, quietly. "You help more than you'll ever know."

Pixal rests her head atop of his, humming quietly in reply.

She does not reach for his hands again. Zane cannot help but feel grateful for that.

* * *

Lloyd is fine, despite his best efforts to free himself from his family's worrying eyes too early. There are a very loud few moments where Pixal mentions something about shaving part of his head to observe the damage, at which Lloyd balks violently, declaring that the first person to even come close to his head with a razor will receive an energy sphere to the face.

Having received one of those himself recently, Zane has no desire to try him.

Kai takes his side, and Lloyd ends up escaping with all his hair intact, though he is under strict orders not to push himself. He celebrates this by throwing himself back into training with the rest of them, determined not to fall into past habits.

"I was _thinking_ of an obstacle course," Lloyd rolls his eyes at Nya's concerned protests. "Simple and easy, no sparring or anything."

"Plenty of chances to fall, though," Cole mutters. He receives several looks of pointed concern at that, and immediately sputters. "I meant — I meant for like, Lloyd's head, not — guys, I'm _fine_, that wasn't — what I meant."

No one looks convinced, and Jay doesn't let go of his hold on Cole's arm.

"A _low_ obstacle course," Lloyd amends. The others shrug in agreement, which Lloyd takes as the most enthusiasm he's going to get, and he starts lining up. The other follow suit, and Zane is moving as well until Cole suddenly turns, eyeing him in concern.

"You sure you're up for this?"

Zane nods shortly, fisting his hands in the side of his gi to stop the tremors. Of course he is. There is no reason for his hands to be shaking — not for simple training, the kind he's done a hundred, a thousand times. The sun is bright where it rests in the clear sky, and even the wind that rustles around them is warm.

He is safe here. They are safe here.

Zane tells himself this as he steps alongside his brothers, pulling the hood of his gi down as they do.

This is a mistake.

The fabric weighs close and heavy against his face, tight and constricting, and all at once Zane's vision goes white and he's _gone_. The air is frigid and Vex's voice is clanging through his empty head like a broken bell, his chest is numb and the panicked breathes he draws in freeze and _burn_. Zane claws frantically at the mask, choking back a scream as it snags and catches, trapping him in a world of white and no color, no warmth, of unfeeling _nothing_—

"Zane!"

There's a violent tug and the mask tears, ripping away from his face like paper. Zane falls forward, bracing himself on his hands as he gasps, breaths shuddering in relief as the pressure lifts, his vision clears, and the air is warm again.

The comforting weight of a hand lands on his back, and Zane's very being cries out for it until he manages to yank himself away.

"N-no," he stammers, his voice halting like a broken record. "No, you cannot— you shouldn't—"

"Hey, it's okay, you're okay," someone murmurs from behind him. "It's fine, it's—"

"You're here." A new voice speaks up, this one just in front of him. "You're free, you're _you_. He doesn't have you, Zane."

Zane gasps out a shuddery, breathless sob before pulling himself together enough to open his eyes, staring blearily at the terrified faces of his team where they're crouched around him. Jay is at his back, his hand still hovering mid-reach for him, and Kai's eyes are wide where Cole holds a cautionary hand in front of him. Nya is on his left, her face pale as her brother's, and Lloyd kneels beside him, his eyes wide and so terribly, painfully empathetic. Zane's eyes drift, and he sees his hood still clutched in Lloyd's white-knuckled fingers, torn from the strength of his pull.

"It's okay," Lloyd repeats, and he tries to smile at him, some offer of reassurance. "Hey, you're good, we got you."

Zane shakes his head, rocking back on his heels and closing his eyes. Lloyd's words echo through his head, again and again.

**_He_**_ doesn't have you._

He wants to scream.

Instead, he exhales, and calmly tells them, "I think I may be sick."

* * *

Zane is a fool, because he believes that will be the end of it, for some reason. He is a fool, for thinking his team will let him get way with shaking hands and drawing further and further into himself.

But he had, for a moment, thought they were _smart_.

Lloyd, as usual, tends to like proving people wrong.

"Zane, come on, you gotta stop hiding away."

Zane goes rigid. He'd been careful when he'd slipped out of the monastery, the rest of his family preoccupied enough with Cole's video game that he'd thought he could leave unnoticed.

He hadn't even made it down the first few steps. Disappointing.

"I am not…hiding away," he says, stiffly. "I just…needed some air."

There. A perfect excuse, one Lloyd uses himself quite often. If he's wise, he'll let it go.

But then Zane hears his footsteps draw closer, and the trembling in his hands picks up. Of course Lloyd will follow him. It's what got him into trouble in the first place.

"Zane…" Lloyd sighs, sounding tired. "I know it's…it's not easy. It can't be. But we — we want to help, Zane. You just gotta let us."

Zane shakes his head. "You shouldn't," he says, bleakly. "You shouldn't want to."

Lloyd makes an unhappy sound in his throat. "Of course we do, Zane," he insists. "We're your family. And what happened there — everything, that was Vex. Not you, Zane."

Zane closes his eyes tight. He's heard this, again and again and again, from Cole and Kai and Jay and Nya. Always blaming Vex, always excusing Zane.

And now Lloyd is here, with the same words, and—

Lloyd bruised and bled and traveled a wasteland to save him, and Zane repaid him by nearly freezing him solid. He repaid him with cold and cruelty, and nearly let another end him, right in front of his eyes. Zane stood by while Vex held a spear to his brother's throat and he almost did _nothing_.

There are no excuses for that.

"You do not understand," Zane repeats, his voice thin. "You can't, Lloyd, so please stop—"

"No!" Lloyd's expression is stubborn as he interrupts him, his eyes hot. "I don't understand, you're right, but I'm the closest you're going to _get!_" Lloyd shakes his head. "You think I don't know what guilt feels like? You think I don't know what it's like to lose yourself?"

Zane's teeth grind. "It is not the same, Lloyd, and you know it."

"Maybe not, but I know what you're doing," Lloyd says, refusing to back down. "I know you're bottling it up, Zane, and you have to stop. You've got to open up to us, Zane, you're destroying yourself."

"It is better than destroying you!"

"You wouldn't!" Lloyd retorts fiercely. "You didn't before, and you won't now!"

Zane's words strangle on the tip of his tongue, and Lloyd steps forward, moving closer. "Zane, you're my _brother_," he says, his words painfully earnest. "I trust you."

_Too close, he's coming too close._ Distress is building in Zane's chest, blurring his vision and choking him. His hands are shaking hard enough to rattle, misting cold flowing from the edges of his fingers. Lloyd either doesn't notice or doesn't care, only stepping closer.

Zane lifts his hand to stop him, to push him back, away from him before he can get too close—

When he realizes with a swoop of horror that ice has formed along his fingers, spreading over his hands and misting out, reaching closer and closer toward Lloyd, and Zane has no time to cry a warning before—

Searing flame erupts in front of him, killing the spreading ice in a wave of heat and sending him stumbling away. Lloyd gives a startled cry of panic from behind the wall of fire that blazes between them, and Zane flinches back, cowering.

"_Stop_."

Kai stares at him, his face white, flames dancing from his hands where his arm is still outstretched, calling the fire between them. His eyes are blown wide — in terror or panic or anger, Zane cannot tell.

"Stop," Kai repeats, his voice shaky. "You can't — no more, not him, you—"

_Haunted_. Kai's eyes are haunted, burning from the inside out. Zane's expression fractures as his heart does, and Kai suddenly blinks rapidly, the fire from his hands dying, turning to smoke that quickly drifts away.

They stand there, Kai and Zane facing each other and Lloyd on the ground, his hands pressed against his eyes tightly, as if still shielding from the light. No one meets the others' eyes.

"I'm sorry," Zane whispers.

Kai shakes his head. "This isn't working," he says, his voice hollow. It sounds final.

There is silence for another moment, then—

Lloyd gives a sharp intake of breath. "Don't."

Their heads swivel toward him. Lloyd is shaking his head, looking close to tears. "Please," he whispers. "Please don't."

Kai looks at Zane, then back to Lloyd, frowning. "Lloyd, what—?"

Lloyd's hands are shaking now too, terrible tremors that spread to his shoulders and don't stop, rattling him like he shivered in the cold of the Never Realm. "Don't leave," he croaks, his eyes reddening at the edges, slowly welling up. "Please don't leave. Not again."

Kai stares at him in blank confusion, before the look turns to horror.

"Oh, Lloyd, no—"

"—not again, please don't—"

"No, no, that's not what's happening, I promise—"

Kai is on the ground with Lloyd now, frantically reassuring him, leaving Zane forgotten for the moment. It is for the best, because it gives Zane the chance to stumble back, to turn, and to _run_.

_This, this is why_, a voice cries in his head, crashing against his skull. _You hurt and you hurt and they ignore it. How long before you hurt too badly? How long before you go too far again?_

Tears burn at the edges of his eyes, hotter than the fire Kai had called up.

Kai had called up fire, against _him_.

Zane shakes his head, choking out a bitter laugh. Of course he had. Kai has always been one to see the clearest. He knows, he must know, how dangerous Zane is, how unforgivable he is, how—

He'd almost hurt Lloyd. Again.

Zane's steps falter then fumble, and his foot catches against a step before sending him tumbling to the ground, his hands just catching himself in the dirt before he wipes out completely.

He stays like that, his arms trembling where they're planted in the earth before him, his breath coming in harsh gasps. He digs his fingers into the dirt, watching the grassroots and dark silt stain around his fingers. The frosting ice has long faded, but Zane can still feel it, still shudders from the chill.

Dirt shifts against the edge of his sleeve, and Zane's stomach turns. The fabric is white, pure and untouched as it always is, and he _hates_ it. He hates the color, he hates it, he hates that it is pure white and not drenched in red, dyed in blood that should be staining his hands—

_Remember when I threw his reds in with your whites? And all your clothes turned pink, and you had to dress up as the pink ninja? Remember?_

He remembers, oh, he remembers, and that is the problem. He remembers every frightened face, every desperate plea for mercy, every terrified scream — all at his hands. All his fault, all his fault, all his—

The earth between Zane's fingers freezes solid as colors burst beneath his eyelids, and for a second he thinks he might explode, shattering into pieces like he did in the Overlord's grasp, except this time it will be at the cause of his own awful mistakes—

A hand settles on his shoulder, gentle but grounding, melting the ice away before Zane can accidentally hurt him.

And like that, every last ounce of energy rushes from Zane's chest, the ice between his fingers splintering and dissolving as he goes limp, still kneeling in the dirt.

"Kai," he rasps.

"Hey, bud."

Kai's voice is raw, almost as if he's crying, or wants to. He doesn't say anything else, just sits there with his hand on Zane's back until he finally sits up, brushing his hands across his eyes and exhaling shakily.

Kai remains by his side, patient.

Zane finally swallows, finding what little courage he has. "Is Lloyd…"

"He's fine," Kai says. He hangs his head, looking pained. "He's just — I kind of…gave him reason to be scared. The last time you, um…" Kai trails off, then shudders. "Anyways, he was — I know you weren't going to hurt him. I know you didn't mean to. I just—"

"I am glad you did," Zane says, quietly.

"But I shouldn't have," Kai says, fiercely. "I could've hurt you, I overreacted and I could've—"

He bites himself off, arms crossing tightly in his lap.

"Lloyd said—" Kai's breath hitches. "He told me — he wanted me to tell you—" He shakes his head, exhaling on a shaky breath that sounds like he either wants to laugh or cry. "He told me to welcome you to the _almost-killed-him-over-a-staff_ club."

Zane inhales sharply, his eyes snapping up to Kai's. Lloyd is never so direct, and he _never_ brings up something he knows will hurt Kai. Not unless they have driven him to it.

"It wasn't — that's not the same," he croaks.

"Yeah," Kai laughs, bitterly. "Because you didn't have your memories. You didn't know."

"But I did," Zane hisses. "I did, Kai, I knew _better_. But I still — the people, Kai, there were _so many_ people—"

"We saved them, though," Kai insists. "Zane, you freed them—"

"_How many?!_" Zane cries, standing abruptly. "How many, Kai? How many did I free after years of suffering, of _years_ of living without their loved ones? And how many never got the chance to?"

Kai stares at him, his eyes wide. "Zane—"

Zane staggers back, his breath coming in harsh pants as he stares at his hands. They're shaking so badly he can hardly see them, or perhaps his entire body is shaking now, rattling itself into disrepair.

"I hurt them, Kai," he chokes out. "I hurt them, and I hurt you. You came for me, and I hurt you, because I listened to _him_."

Kai pushes himself to his feet, his hands wavering hesitantly as he steps toward him. "Zane, you can't…"

Fire suddenly burns hot in Zane's gut, and his eyes sting.

"I wish you'd burned him," he suddenly spits, his voice so vicious it scrapes through his throat. "I wish you'd killed him."

Kai's expression makes it clear that Zane doesn't need to say the name. His fists ball up, and he continues. "I wish—"

Zane grinds his hands against his eyes, his breath catching.

He wishes, he wishes — he can wish forever, but _none_ of that will undo what he's done.

Kai lays a hand on his, trapping his trembling one in a low warmth.

"I'm sorry we didn't come sooner," he whispers, his voice broken. "I'm so sorry, Zane."

"It is not your—"

Zane can no longer speak. Kai's warmth is too much against the icy shards of his heart, and somewhere in him a dam breaks, flooding out with an emotion so intense Zane crumbles to the ground.

Kai is quick to follow, holding him as he sobs, agony splintering against his chest like cracking ice.

"It wasn't you, Zane, it wasn't—"

"My hands, Kai, they were _my hands._"

Kai is quiet for a beat, and his arms tighten further, his warmth almost searing where he clutches him, as if holding Zane together with sheer force of will.

"I know, Zane," Kai's voice is thick, water-logged and miserable. "I know."

* * *

They stay out there for hours, only returning when the sun has finally set completely, casting the mountain in darkness. The others are waiting for them in the doorway, and Zane nearly falters before Kai pulls him forward.

Lloyd is the first to greet them, his eyes soft as he takes Zane's hand without hesitation, squeezing it tightly.

"You wouldn't hurt me," he says, and this time, Zane hears the resolution in his voice. It is an assurance on Lloyd's part, a promise from him.

Zane's fingers squeeze back, and Lloyd gives him a watery smile before moving to Kai. He wavers for a moment, hesitating until Kai pulls him in. Lloyd returns the hug fiercely.

"I'm sorry," he murmurs, his voice heartbroken against Kai's gi. "I shouldn't have—"

"No," Kai says. "You should have."

Nya steps past her brothers to reach for Zane next. He flinches back at first, but she presses onward, grasping his hands with her own. With a flicker of surprise, he feels a similar tremor running through her hands, as if she's being shaken from the inside out.

She doesn't say anything, but her eyes are understanding.

"You don't have to be okay," Jay suddenly says, materializing at his side. "We don't expect you to, you know."

Zane swallows thickly. He looks up, meeting Cole's dark eyes with his own watering ones.

"We lost you once," Cole says, his voice hollow. "We're not going to again. And whatever you've done, whatever — whatever you need to do, we're going to be there. You can't stop us, either."

His lips quirk up in a pained smile. "You should know better by now."

And Zane shouldn't, because Cole's arms are still scarred from the cold, from _his_ cold — but Cole pulls him in tightly and Zane clings back, burying his face in his brother's chest.

When he finally pulls back, Cole's eyes are red, and he can spot Pixal at his shoulder, her lips pulled into a small, soft kind of smile.

They shoulder him back into the monastery, tugging him from the darkness outside into the light. Lloyd falls in next to him as they head inside, looking a little guilty.

Zane cannot imagine what on earth for, but Lloyd speaks up before he can question him.

"Earlier, when we were…talking, I didn't mean to talk about me," he says, slowly. "I, um…I wanted to talk with you, about _you_, but also…also about my father."

Zane pauses, and he looks down at his hands.

"I would like that," he says, quietly.

The smile Lloyd gives him is small, but it is noticeably genuine.

* * *

"You cannot change the past, Zane, no matter how much you wish to."

Sensei's eyes are distant where he sits across the table from him, but they are somehow understanding. He stirs at his tea absently, sighting wearily. "That is a power long beyond our reach, and pointless to meddle with."

"I understand, Sensei." Zane's eyes turn downwards, and then Sensei Wu continues.

"But you can protect what you have now," he says, gently. "And you can protect those who need your help in the future."

Zane stares at him for a beat, then turns his gaze to the window, where he knows his family is likely eavesdropping again.

"Will it ever be enough?" he whispers, afraid of the answer.

Sensei Wu's head dips. "I will not pass judgement on you, Zane," he says. "I have done enough myself in my own life."

Zane nods, disappointed, but not entirely unsurprised.

"But," he continues, and his eyes are lighter. "I do know that you have a good heart, Zane. And I know that whatever darkness has touched it will not linger for long."

Zane stares at his hands, gloved in the white of his uniform.

"You cannot change the past," Sensei repeats. "But you've been given a future. Don't waste it, Zane."

Zane's hands clench once, then twice. He thinks of snow, for snowmen and sledding.

Twice now, he's been given a second chance.

He won't waste it. He _won't_.

* * *

A month after their return from the Never Realm finds the six of them abandoning their training once again, though this time it is with permission.

Instead of resting at the monastery, they pack their bags and set out on foot, Cole leading the way as they pick a path up the nearby mountain. It is not a training hike, or a desperate hike — it is slow and ambling and they trip more often than not, stumbling over each other or kicking each others' legs out, pausing often to peer over the clifftops and duck under tiny waterfalls.

They reach the top by sundown, sweaty and disheveled and hair askew, but they're lighter and happier than Zane's seen in a while, and he himself does not feel so terribly heavy for once.

They toss sticks and pine straw and whatever they've collected on the way up into a haphazard pile as it gets dark, and Kai brings up a bonfire bright enough to illuminate all their faces.

Then Nya draws the wrapped object from her bag, and the mood turns somber.

Lloyd's eyes shadow as the staff, wrapped and covered firmly in old bedsheets, is passed from Nya's hands to Kai's. Jay's eyes flit away, and Cole looks down at the fire. Zane's hands tremble, but Lloyd takes one and Jay takes the other, and the restlessness in his heart quiets.

"All due respect to your grandfather, Lloyd," Kai begins, with an air of dignity as he holds the staff aloft. "But this was an awful idea."

Lloyd ducks his head, breathing a laugh. Kai grins, meets Zane eyes, then drops the staff into the fire, the flames burning stronger as it catches.

They know full well that Lloyd splintered it a while ago, stripped it of his grandfather's power with his uncle's aid, but Kai claims this is therapeutic.

They all watch in silence as the scroll crumples and crackles under the heat of Kai's fire, curling up and blackening at the edges, until the entire thing is consumed in bright flame, hot tongues of heat erasing the sigils from existence as the paper turns to ash.

"Good riddance," Cole mutters.

"Seriously," Jay echoes. "What a headache."

His eyes suddenly brighten, and Nya shoots him a look. Jay ignores her, continuing, "A literal headache, get it? 'Cause your head burst into flame—"

Cole elbows him in the side, but the others are snickering now as well, and even Zane feels a smile pulling at the corner of his mouth.

"Sensei won't be mad, will he?" Nya finally questions, when the laughter has died down.

Lloyd simply shrugs. He still hasn't let go of Zane's hand. "I don't think so," he says. "And even if he does — this was our decision. He can take it up with all of us."

"We speak as one," Kai says, his eyes bright with the light from the fire, slipping his hand into Lloyd's, his other reaching for Nya's.

"As one," Cole echoes quietly, taking Nya's outstretched hand and closing the circle as he grabs for Jay's, leaving the six of them in a lopsided, connected circle of battered hands.

The fire snaps and crackles in the middle of them, the last remnants of the scroll turning to ash, and Zane exhales, as if letting out some breath he's been holding for ages.

His hands are steady.


End file.
